Page:The cry for justice - an anthology of the literature of social protest. - (IA cryforjusticea00sinc).pdf/465

 You pair of old dotards, you drivelling comrades in trifling and playing the fool! If the plan ye propose be accomplish'd at last nothing worse could mankind e'er befall, Than that Plutus should have the full use of his eyes, and bestow himself equal on all! See you not, that at once, to all arts there would be, to each craft that you reckon, an end? If these were exploded (so much to your joy), say who then should there be, who would lend To the forge, to the hammer, the adze or the loom—to the rule or the mallet—his hand? Not a soul! The mechanic, the carpenter, shipwright—would all be expelled from the land. Where would tailor, or cobbler, or dyer of leather, or bricklay'r, or tanner be found? Who would e'er condescend in this golden vacation, to till, for his bread's sake, the ground?
 * —A pest on your prate, and palavering stuff! back! begone with ye, blockheads, to school!

Our servants, of course, shall provide us.
 * —Hold, hold, jade! Whatever essentials of life in your catalogue's column you string,


 * —Your servants? and whence do you think they shall spring?


 * —We shall buy them with cash—

Who will care about selling?
 * —But with cash all the world as well as yourself is supplied!

(A rare kidnapping nest) who may wish to secure a good bargain to profit the trade.
 * —Some dealer, no doubt, coming down from the Thessaly side,